//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Beacon // Story: Brightly Lit 2: Pharos // by Penalt //------------------------------//    ”Tonight’s top story, as it has been for the past month and a half, are the incredible events that took place in the northern British Columbia town of Brightly.  The shock waves of astonishment at the discovery that Man is not alone in the universe continue to reverberate across the world.       Pressure continues to mount on Canada in general, and Prime Minister Trudeau in particular, to allow access to the alien princesses who have been living among us since their arrival.  Despite the increasingly hostile rhetoric and talk of sanctions from even many of Canada’s closest allies, the prime minister continues to refuse to allow even informal access.       In a statement today, Prime Minister Trudeau stated: ‘Until the question of jurisdiction over the portal to Equestria is settled to the satisfaction of everyone involved, it would not be proper for anyone to begin negotiations with our new friends.’     Princess Celestia, speaking from her residence in Brightly, said the following: ‘Equestria only seeks equal and fair relations with all the varied people of Earth.  Although Canada was the first to welcome us, we cannot allow our friendship with the people of Brightly to influence how we deal with the many nations of your world.  Until the question of who controls the land around our gateway is settled, my sister and I feel the wisest course of action is to remain apart and allow you to settle this disagreement for yourselves.’     After the break:  ‘What does an increasingly hostile United States mean for Canada?’” Summer had come to the north coast of British Columbia.  Days of intense sunshine, and nights of the clearest black when the stars shone like a thousand diamonds set in a sea of velvet.  Nature exploding into life, as plants and animals of all sorts grew right alongside the length of mercury in the thermometer.      The long days made for impressive growth in the flora and fauna of this region of the world.  This was the happy time, when food was plentiful, the days warm, and the nights cool enough to give relief.  Enough relief that some chose to be active at night rather than the day.       Some chose to be active at night, some preferred it, some had to as part of their jobs, and a few were active at night because their job could only really be done in the cover of darkness.  Employment such as being part of a military, where sneaking into someone else’s territory was almost always a requirement.     So when the heavily stealthed Black Hawk helicopter came sweeping into a hover over a small clearing by a pond in the woods, it wasn’t there to see the sights.  Nor were the men swiftly rappelling down on fast lines there to try their hand at fishing the nearly untouched waters of the pond or the stream that supplied it.     No, the men who composed the skilled and efficient team were there as part of their job.  They had a mission to complete and it was their duty in the service of their country to carry out the task set before them.       “Everyone down?” asked the leader of the group, taking a quick headcount by the glow of a red flashlight  Camouflaged insignia marked him as a captain in the US army, with a name tag that read “Rios.”       Receiving a quick series of nods from the group around them, Captain Rios aimed his light upwards, and flashed it in the sequence that meant his team was down safely and ready to proceed.  The hovering craft rocked briefly from side to side to acknowledge the signal, then banked away, keeping low to stay under the radar shadow of the nearby foothill.     The silence of the summer night quickly closed in, broken only by the burbling sound of the stream and the hum of insects.       “Specialist Salem,” Rios said, addressing the only member of the group not carrying a rifle.  “Did all your vet gear make it down in one piece?”     “Bloody well hope so,” the strongly built man replied.  “You pukes tossed it around like it was government issue.  Never mind that if it's broken this whole trip was wasted.”     “Sorry we couldn’t wrap it in five miles of bubble wrap for you,” the team leader riposted, rolling his eyes and smirking at the latest salvo in what had been a long running verbal battle between the Ranger team and the Army K9 specialist attached to them for the mission.     “Yeah, well my stuff is built tough so it should survive even you guys,” Salem replied, a half-grin on his face.  “Seriously though, my tranqs are okay and I’ll check over everything once we stop.”     “Good,” the team leader commented, before looking around at the soldiers gathered around him.  “Okay, according to intel there is an old logging road roughly two klicks upslope almost due north of us.  The plan is for us to get to that logging road and follow it until we reach the wetlands near the town.”     Rios looked around at his men.  All of them knew the plan inside and out, having rehearsed and memorized every bit of it over the past two weeks.  All of them were also professionals and knew that repetition made for perfection. None of them looked bored.     “Once there, we establish a perimeter and remain concealed until tomorrow night,” Rios continued.  “We infiltrate the town, and secure the home of the primary target, subduing or otherwise incapacitating anyone there.  At which point Specialist Salem takes over. Specialist.”     “Right,” Salem replied with a nod, taking his cue.  “Primary target is Jean Pedersen, aka ‘Foxfire’. She is pregnant, and lethal force is definitely not authorized.  We go in, put her and anyone else home down with anesthetic darts or injections. At which point I take a full set of samples from her.  Blood, skin, hair, the lot.”     “What about the other… fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” interrupted the team’s radio operator.  “What about the other ponies in town?”     “All the others seem to shift on an irregular basis between pony and human forms,” Salem said, understanding the other man’s feelings.  “Pedersen doesn’t. So she’s the only one we can guarantee will be a pony when we get there.”     “From all reports Foxfire will put up a nasty fight if we give her even half a chance,” Rios added.  “She’s strong, smart, and more than willing to use her abilities against anyone she sees as a threat.  Take her down fast.”     The group nodded in assent even as their hands checked and rechecked their gear with practiced motions.  “Okay, any questions before we move out?”     "And what, pray tell, is the plan shoulds't the Canadians learn of our presence?" a voice asked. "We exfiltrate as fast as possible, and it gets put down to a navigation accident during training," Rios responded, before adding.  "And Smithers, stop with the imitations, it wasn't funny during the flight and it's not funny now." "But," began Sergeant Smithers, "that wasn't me." "Then wh—" "IT WAS ME, DIO!" blasted a tsunami of light and sound, from a revealed dark blue winged unicorn not ten feet away from the soldiers.     The team of US Army Rangers were tough, professional soldiers.  They had been trained to the keenest of edges and were among the very best in the world at what they did.  So, when the equivalent of a living flash-bang went off beside them they did not scream in surprise or pain as their night-vision equipment was overloaded.       Instead, they acted, and as one they flung themselves away from the sensory bomb that had gone off near them.  Each of them came up with weapons in hand and at the ready, furiously blinking away the spots in their vision and trying to ignore the ringing of their ears.  Each of them also demonstrated the discipline of their profession and their elite rank by holding their fire.       All of them, except one.     “I didst not realize I was a target of yours,” Princess Luna said, in a conversational tone.  A fletched anesthetic dart held in her telekinetic grip.     “Sorry, Ma’am,” Rios replied, eyes scanning around for anyone else.  His rifle was aimed at a point near, but not at the Equestrian. “You aren’t, but we can’t let you interfere with our job.”     “And how do you propose to prevent me from doing so, should I wish to ‘interfere’ as you put it?”  Luna asked, keeping her voice calm but serious.     “Salem here will give you an injection that will make you sleep for a bit,” Rios stated, gesturing with his free hand to the vet who had holstered his discharged dart gun.  “I’ll detail one of my men to watch over you while you sleep and keep you safe while we do what we came here for.”     “A generous and honourable offer,” Luna replied, relaxing a spell she had been keeping running for awhile now.  “What say you, Foxfire? Can these men be trusted to keep their word?”     From behind the dropped cloak of magic that Luna had held behind her, stepped a very angry unicorn.  Her gleaming white fur contrasted with the smokey purple magic aura wreathing her body and horn. Every rifle snapped over to cover Foxfire as the soldiers made the rational choice over which of the ponies was the threat.     “You can never trust men with guns,” Foxfire declared, lambent purple fire in her eyes.  “And I see nothing here but men with guns. Men who are trying to decide if they can take us down.  Men who want me and mine in cages. Dead men.”     “Peace, Foxfire,” Luna replied, draping a wing over the unicorn to literally take her under her wing.  “Both of you.”     “Orders?” asked the radio operator, weapon at the ready.  “There’s just two of them.”     “I suggest you count again,” a male voice from above called.  “I’m sorry soldier, but the day is not yours. Not unless you intend to open fire on civilians, a visiting head of state, and a priest.”     “Adamschek,” breathed Rios, recognizing the voice from his briefings.  “Stand down, everyone. They know we’re here.”     There was a general relaxing of tensions as the sound of several rifle safeties being engaged echoed around the clearing, and the soldiers moved their weapons away from their aiming point of Foxfire’s chest.     “So now what?” Rios asked, looking around and seeing even more of the bat winged “Night Ponies” landing nearby.      “Now you leave, and never come back,” Foxfire declared, as fiercely as she could while pinned against Luna’s side.       “We’ll signal for our ride and be out of your hair, er manes,” Rios replied, nodding to the unicorn, who was only now dismissing her pent-up power.       “I’m afraid that’s not an option,” called yet another new voice.  One belonging to a pegasus gliding in, his body festooned with a full equipment harness.  “You men are all under arrest.”     “For what?” Rios demanded.  “We’re just a bunch of hunters out looking for deer.”     “At night?” the pegasus asked, by way of reply.  “With automatic weapons, grenades, US military style uniforms and a military helicopter dropping you off.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rios replied.  “All this is surplus. We didn’t want to bother anyone so we tried to get dropped off without disturbing anyone.” “All that occurs by the light of the star or the Moon lies within my sight,” Luna replied, and for a moment her eyes flared with the grey-white light of her namesake.  “You would do well to speak the truth to your fellow warrior.” “All I see are a bunch of walking flea dip patrons,” Salem said, launching a salvo into the conversation.  “What warrior are you talking about?” “That would be me,” the pegasus replied, tossing his head to show off his ice blue mane.  “You might know me as ‘Polaris,’ but I’m also Martin McCrae, Canadian Rangers. By the authority placed in me by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, as well as the Province of British Columbia, and the Municipality of Brightly, I hereby place you under arrest.” “On what charge?” Salem demanded, even as the rest of his team began to put the butts of their weapons on the ground.   “Well, we can start with multiple prohibited weapons offenses,” Polaris stated, smirking.  “Unless you can produce the proper F.A.C.’s or transport documents. Then we will get into the infractions for illegal hunting, because this most definitely is not hunting season and even if it was, hunting isn’t allowed at night.”  “Oh,” was all Salem could say, crestfallen.  “You sure we can’t just be on our way?” “Tell me who sent you,” Foxfire suddenly demanded, as she squirmed out from under Luna’s wing with a voice that was just this side of a graveyard. “Tell me who your masters are, and I will let you live.  Tell me who sent you to plunder my body for its treasure, and I will give you your lives and your freedom.” “We… we are… “ Rios began, his eyes locked onto the swirling purple depths in the unicorn's eyes.  Eyes that held him. Eyes that bored into him. Merciless eyes that would not be denied.   “That is not the way,” Luna growled, sweeping her wing over Foxfire’s face and blocking the contact between pony and soldier.  “Back to your place, Dark One. This is not the time for your power.” “I will protect what is mine,” hissed the voice that came out of Foxfire.  “My host trusts you, and so I will abide. But mark me, Princess. Should she come to harm through your counsel, I will hold you responsible.” “So be it,” Luna replied gravely, while the others gathered around watched the byplay.  At turns fascinated and frightened by the display.   As for Foxfire, she was like a puppet with its strings cut, collapsing heavily against Luna.  For her part, Luna simply floated the unicorn up onto her back, where she lay sprawled.   “Sorry about that,” Foxfire gasped out. ”Didn’t mean to go all ‘Blair Witch’ on you there.” “Think nothing of it. I have matters well in wing,” Luna assured the unicorn, before turning her attention back to the men under arrest. “Gentlemen, you have seen what vengeance my friend seeks for what you may or may not have intended.  I urge you to go quietly with Polaris, and he assures me you will be well treated under the law of this land.” More bat ponies began landing in and around the clearing, among which was a quartet of pegasi.  Two adults, and a young filly and colt. Thunder, Windweaver, Skylark, and Darter set down a short distance away.  By Rios’ count, there were now nearly fifteen ponies around them, not including the alien princess. “Guys,” Rios sighed, making sure his weapon was on “safe” and withdrawing the magazine as well.  “Looks like we’re under arrest. Make sure to request a lawyer and don’t say anything until you get one.” “A wise choice, Warrior,” Luna declared, approaching Rios until her nose was almost touching him.  “You show wisdom, which is a fine quality in one who leads others into battle.” “Not wise enough, Ma’am,” Rios replied, keeping calm and composed, even with an alien nose to nose with him.  “Wise enough to shelter those you command,” Luna replied, with a nod of respect.  “Wise enough to know when the day is lost, and t’is time to preserve your forces for another day.  Wise enough to carry a message for me.” “Message?” Rios asked, sensing his men tense up.  More than one warlord had sent “messages” in the form of American bodies. Luna’s eyes blazed white and her voice deepened, “Tell this to those who sent you: Nothing that occurs beneath the moon or stars is hidden from mine eyes, for I am the Princess of the Night and its powers are mine to command.  Dost thou understand?” “Y-yes Ma’am,” Rios replied, his stoic face cracked slightly by the force of will that was Luna wrapped in her mantle of power.  “I understand.” “Good,” Luna said, setting aside her might and returning to normal. “When you come this way again, come you as a friend and not a thief in the night.  You will be welcome at my table.”     “...And that’s when we headed back to town with them,” Ernie said, concluding his recounting of the night’s events to Princess Celestia and Mayor Montcalm.  “They’re cooling their heels right now in the new jail.”     “And these men,” Princess Celestia asked, taking a sip of Earl Grey, “you are sure they were soldiers?”     “Most definitely, Princess,” Ernie replied, resisting an urge to bow.  “They were more subtle about it than those North Korean idiots from two weeks ago.  If one of the good Father’s congregation hadn’t seen their helicopter while out flying, we probably would never have stopped them.”     “Do we know where they were from?” Luna asked, from the other side of the room where she was munching on a very large chef’s salad.       “Polaris said they are almost definitely American military,” Ernie answered, grabbing a bagel for himself from the breakfast tray Brightly’s inn had provided.  “Other than rank insignia they didn’t have anything on them to show who they were, or where they were from.”     “They were excellent warriors, from what I saw,” Luna replied, around a mouthful of watercress. “Why do they not proclaim their allegiance proudly?”     “Because their mission was likely what we call, ‘Black Ops’, Princess,” Montcalm answered, tapping a few grains of salt on top of a glass of buttermilk.  “They were operating in black, without the full knowledge of their government. That way, the American president can honestly shrug his shoulders and say he didn’t know about them, if he’s asked about it.” “Then they are miscreants?  Criminals?” Luna asked, slightly confused. “No, I’m pretty sure they were obeying orders,” Montcalm replied, taking a sip of the thick milk.  “But there are several organizations and departments of the US government that have the power to authorize and carry out something like this.” “NSA, CIA, OSI, just to name a few of the known ones,” Ernie added. “I wish things hadn’t become so complicated,” Celestia said, with a heartfelt sigh.  “After your Prime Minister announced us to the world, I thought everything would be fine.  We could open up an embassy, start trade relations, and get to know an entirely new world.” “Too bad no one told the Hieltsuk that,” Montcalm sighed.  “Although, I can understand their point. You go for decades trying to get your land claims settled.  Land your people have lived on for almost as long as people have been on this continent. Land you’ve never sold, ceded, willed or given away by treaty.  The governments stall you year after year in the courts, and then the single biggest event in human history happens right on top of you? I’d do the same thing they did.” “In truth, I still do not understand this matter,” Luna stated, taking a moment to slide a large portion of cheesecake to her sister.  “What matters who owns the land, it merely holds the portal to our world.” “Princess, you have to understand,” Montcalm responded, leaning forward and setting aside his drink for the moment.  “The Hieltsuk have lived in this part of the world for 14,000 years. They survived an ice age here. Never mind the huge amount of money that stands to be made.” “Money?  As in bits?” Luna asked, looking toward Celestia who was nodding in agreement. “Assuming all good things happen and we begin trading with Earth… I still find that name annoying,” Celestia said, aside.  “Why you would name your world ‘Dirt’ is beyond me. I thought ‘Canada’ was a much more dignified name.” “It’s a translation of a much older word,” Ernie chimed in, a wide grin on his face, which grew even wider as he glanced at the Princess of the Night. “But you were explaining about money?” “Oh, yes,” Celestia replied, shaking her head.  “Once trade begins, whoever controls the portal can levy a fee on anything passing through it.” “OH!” Luna exclaimed, head coming back up from her salad bowl.  “I understand. T’is like a mountain pass with a toll gate. A tithe on the commerce between two nations can be vast indeed, but the amount that could be gained from even a trifling fee on the trade between two worlds would be magnitudes beyond.” “Bingo, Your Highness,” Ernie replied, his smile growing broader.  “Please, Thunder,” Luna replied, waving a hoof.  “How often must we say that to thee and thine, we are but Luna and Celestia.  Thee and thy brave children have more than earned the right to speak to us using our names.” Ernie gave a bark of laughter before replying, “I’d love to, but if I don’t use your title I’m going to keep remembering one of the meanings of your name in particular.” “And what would that be?” Luna asked, her face darkening. “Well, you know how ‘Earth’ is actually a translation of a much older name for our world from another language?” Ernie asked, Luna’s incipient ire not denting his mirth in the slightest. “Please do not tell me that my name means something similar,” Luna replied, not quite growling, but most definitely not happy.  Celestia continued to sip her tea and watched to see where the conversation was going herself. “Well, the old word for the Earth is ‘Terra’,” Ernie supplied, drawing things out by asking, “Remind me again what some of your titles are?” “We are known as the Princess of the Night, the Guardian of Dreams, and the Lunar Alicorn,” Luna replied, annoyance dissipating a bit.   “And your ‘Mark of Power’ is a crescent moon, right?” Ernie asked, gesturing towards Luna’s flank. “‘Cutie Mark’,” Celestia corrected, almost absently. “Aye,” Luna replied, eyebrows arching as she tried to figure out what Ernie was driving at. “In Latin, which is what that transformation spell of your sister’s is sort of translated into, is where we get the word ‘Terra’ from,” Ernie said, pausing a moment for dramatic effect.  “It also has a word for our moon. And that word, is ‘Luna’.” Luna’s sudden delighted smile lit the room like a beacon.